


Rain in the Desert

by flaming_muse



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-16
Updated: 2007-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a poetic irony that SG-1's first mission after the ultimate adrenalin rush of saving the planet by destroying Apophis' ships - and somehow by the skin of their teeth not themselves as well - was as routine and mind-numbingly boring as a mission could be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain in the Desert

**Author's Note:**

> set just after "The Serpent's Lair," 2x01
> 
> originally posted in my LJ on May 16, 2007

There was a poetic irony, Jack reflected without much enthusiasm, that SG-1's first mission after the ultimate adrenalin rush of saving the planet by destroying Apophis' ships - and somehow by the skin of their teeth not themselves as well - was as routine and mind-numbingly boring as a mission could be. The planet hadn't been inhabited by humans or Goa'uld for centuries, there were no predators larger than a rather vicious but thankfully reclusive grey squirrel, and there was not a damn thing to do besides stare at trees and ancient carvings, watch Carter take endless samples of the atmosphere and mineral deposits, and get soaked to the skin by the relentless driving rain.

Unfortunately for Jack, he wasn't much for poetry. Or for rain.

"Aagh!" he said with a full-body shudder as he ducked into the shelter of the tent and a determined rivulet of water found its way inside his collar to slither down his spine. He hopped forwards and slapped at his back between tossing his hat to the side and zipping up the tent.

Daniel didn't look up from where he was sitting on his sleeping bag, propped up against his pack and scribbling furiously in one of his leather-bound journals. He was lit by the glow of two lanterns and looked surprisingly comfortable, given that his jacket was still glossy with water and his hair was clinging in damp strands to his glasses. If he had enough books to distract him, Daniel could probably be at ease while on fire, Jack thought.

His skin crawled at the mental image. Giving himself another little shake, he pushed aside the awful memory of Daniel having _been_ on fire; it hadn't been real, just like the despair he'd felt when he'd left Daniel behind on the Goa'uld mothership hadn't been necessary. Daniel was fine. They were all fine. There was nothing to worry about. Well, except for the fact that Jack was wet and cold, but _that_ he could do something about.

"Thanks for the concern," he said, putting down his zat and bending over to try to untangle his wet laces. "I could've been shot, for all you know."

"If you were shot you probably wouldn't have done that frantic shimmy at the same time you were closing up the tent flap," Daniel replied. He didn't look up from his journal, nor did his hand slow as it guided the pen across the page. "Also, there's nothing here to shoot you, unless you've bugged Sam so much about being bored that she decided to use you for target practice."

Jack's first lace gave way under the assault of his numb fingers, and he slid his foot out of his boot. His sock squelched as he set his foot on the tent floor, and he remembered one of his old sergeants listing reasons that too much water could be as devastating for a soldier in the field as too little: parasites, diseases, chafing, blisters, fungi growing in sensitive and inconvenient places. With a sneer of disgust, he peeled off his sodden sock and attacked his second boot. "No, no target practice, although she did tell me if I interrupted her again while she and Teal'c are trying to get those weird Goa'uld - " He took a second to search for the right word, but whatever she had called them had slipped from his mind kind of like the way the tiny stream of water was dribbling out of his ear. He waved his hand as he substituted a word from his own vocabulary. " - whatchamacallits working she'd poke holes in the roof of our tent."

 _That_ got Daniel to turn his attention away from his journal; he lifted his head and squinted with some alarm at the ceiling. "I have some important books in here. I don't want them to get wet."

"It was a _joke_ , Daniel," Jack said. Shaking his head to the side to get the rest of the water out of his ear, he tugged hard at his bootlace, but the knot refused to loosen. He was tempted to reach for his knife. "At least I think so. She'd have to leave her tent to do it, so I'm not too worried."

"Why would that stop - " Daniel's eyes finally focused on him as Jack struggled with his boot. "Oh. Right. The rain."

"Oh, right, the rain. You say it like you'd forgotten about it. All there is here is rain. And trees. Rain-covered trees."

"And hundreds of stele with fascinating religious texts on them," Daniel added, going back to his journal.

The knot gave way, and Jack yanked off his boot and sock together. He wiggled his toes. They were still cold and wet, but now at least there was a chance that they could become warm and dry. "Aaaah," he said with great satisfaction.

"Besides, what's wrong with rain? It's kind of nice."

Jack's hands paused on the zipper of his jacket. "Nice? _Nice_? You think rain is _nice_?"

Daniel shrugged. "It's better than snow."

Jack peeled off his jacket and laid it out by the door flap before kneeling on the end of his own sleeping bag. He took a better look at Daniel, who was still sopping wet as he sat on his bedroll. "Snow wouldn't be doing a pretty good imitation of a river rushing right toward your library, there." A hasty duck backwards kept him from getting elbowed right in the jaw as Daniel sprang up as high as the tent would allow and scrambled around in a squat to gather up his books and papers before they could get soaked.

"How am I supposed to work if I don't have a place to put my books?" Daniel asked, piling his books at the far end of the tent and looking at dismay at the damp surface of his sleeping bag.

"You should've gotten dry before you jumped into whatever you were working on," Jack said. He peeled off his clinging t-shirt and tossed it toward the door. The cool night air made goose bumps rise up on his skin. "Or as dry as you can in this damn place. We'd better find something good here." He chafed his arms with his hands to try to warm himself up. "Before we all start sprouting mushrooms."

Daniel's frown turned into a sunny smile. "We already have," he said, his eyes instantly alight with the fire Jack knew all too well. He clearly didn't mean mushrooms. "I've only just started translating, but the insights we can get into this culture from these texts are incredible!"

"Are any of them about weapons?" Jack asked. "Or have any military purpose whatsoever?"

"Well, no," Daniel admitted, sitting back down on his bag without actually removing any of his wet clothes, "but just because something's not military doesn't mean it isn't worthwhile."

"In case you've forgotten, we're fighting a war. I'm glad you're having fun, but I'll be damned if I'm freezing my ass off - and other important body parts - for _archaeology_." Jack said the last word with a bit more vehemence than necessary, since it was timed with the discovery that the supposedly warm and dry pair of socks tucked in the bottom of his pack were actually nearly as wet and cold as the clothes he'd just taken off.

"I haven't forgotten about the war, Jack," Daniel said, his voice soft and serious. From behind his glasses and beneath his hair, his clear blue eyes were equally grave.

Jack slowly set the socks down, remembering again far too vividly seeing those eyes filled with pain, fear, and determination for what he had thought would be the last time. Daniel had been willing to sacrifice his own life to win the war, and Jack was still torn between being proud of and being horrified by it. "I know," he said, grimacing his apology. "I know you haven't, Daniel."

"But just because we haven't found a weapon doesn't mean this mission isn't important. There were Goa'uld here for a thousand years. You never know what we could learn."

"Yeah, I know," Jack said, and he did. His edginess was just from so many days of doing _nothing_. That had to be the reason. "But why can't we learn it someplace with satellite TV? Or at least a nice dry cave?"

Daniel laughed and shook his head. "Hey, some people think rain's good luck."

"Some people also think Elvis is still alive," Jack replied. He flexed his stiff fingers and unfastened his belt buckle. "Come on, take off that wet stuff before you catch pneumonia."

Looking down at his sodden jacket, Daniel clutched it around himself and said, "But I'm cold."

"You look like a drowned rat. What did you do - splash in puddles all day? You'll be warmer without it. Trust me." Jack wiggled out of his pants and laid them flat beside him in the hope that they'd dry out as their body heat warmed up the tent. The thought of putting them back on, cold and clammy, in the morning was almost enough to turn his stomach.

After a second, Daniel shrugged and began to strip. By the time he was down to his boxers, his teeth were chattering and his skin was covered in goose bumps. He struggled with the wet cloth, trying to straighten out his uniform on the floor like Jack had.

Jack touched his shoulder, letting his hand linger there for a second because he knew Daniel wouldn't mind. "Get in your bag. I'll take care of those."

For once, Daniel didn't argue. He took off his glasses and slithered into his sleeping bag without hesitation. His lips were almost free of their blueish tinge by the time Jack finished arranging his clothing.

"Better?" Jack asked.

"Much. Although I still can't use my books."

"Work's over for the night, Daniel." Jack got into his own bag and extinguished the lanterns before zipping it up. "It's time for good little archaeologists to get some sleep."

"And what about good little colonels?" Daniel asked with an audible smile.

"There's no such thing." Jack listened for the faint, reassuring rumble of Carter and Teal'c still at work in their tent across the clearing, but his ears were mostly filled with Daniel's little motions as he got settled and the sound of rain hitting the roof and the tarp above them and trickling in streams just beyond the sides of the tent. If he were being fair, he'd admit that it wasn't exactly a monsoon, just a steady downpour, but after three days it was beginning to sound like a combination of Niagara Falls and Chinese Water Torture.

Closing his eyes, he folded his hands on his stomach and tried to ignore the crawling sensation between his shoulder blades that had been lingering just beneath the surface for days, weeks. He rubbed his back against the bag beneath him, but like every other time he'd tried to relieve the itch it didn't work. It was a shadow of the alertness that came when a gun was trained on him or when at any minute they'd have to spring into action to survive. A good long run, a couple of hours at the firing range, or a quick fight with Jaffa would probably have helped to get rid of it, but he wasn't going to get any of them on this planet. He just had to ignore the flickers of adrenalin and the knot in his stomach until they went on a real mission and the memories of their previous one receded a little.

He didn't want to think about why he was having trouble letting go of the danger they'd somehow all survived, but he knew why, deep in his gut. He hadn't wanted another family, but he had one, and this had been the closest call yet for them. It would have been worth losing their lives just to succeed, but it had still been too damn close.

Now it was over, they were safe, but he still had the urge to grab onto their vests to keep them from going over the figurative cliff edge. It was stupid, because they could all take care of themselves - even Daniel, he'd proven that - but Jack couldn't shake himself out of it.

He sighed. Normally he was able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to manage it. So he broke rule number four of sharing a tent with Daniel (rule one being to try to share with Teal'c instead to make the other rules irrelevant, rule two being to make sure Daniel puts his glasses somewhere safe and easy to find, and rule three being not to let yourself watch him while he's sleeping, no matter how strong the urge) and asked him a question when it was time to sleep. "You really like the rain?"

"Yes. It's kind of soothing, don't you think?" The cocoon of white noise around the sanctuary of the tent made Daniel's chuckle seem almost like it was next to Jack's ear. "Okay, obviously you don't."

Jack turned onto his side facing Daniel and tucked the bag more snugly around himself. "Not this much rain. Sometimes I think you fried your brain out there under all of that Abydos sun."

"I know you do." Daniel was still smiling, but his voice turned more contemplative. "We had rain there, too, you know."

"I seem to remember Abydos being a big _desert_."

"It didn't happen _often_." Daniel rolled his eyes, the gesture barely visible in the dim evening light filtering through the tent's fabric. "It only happened once while I was there."

"That must've been a surprise," Jack said, unable to imagine the bright desert sands of Abydos getting soaked under grey skies. It seemed impossible for those skies to be anything but brilliant blue or star-studded black... or filled with fire and Goa'uld ships, the air smoky and thick with screams. He chafed his arms again and focused his attention on Daniel. "Did you have a party?"

Daniel's chuckle this time had a husky edge that brought goose bumps right back to the surface of Jack's warming skin. "You have no idea. When it rained, everything changed. It was a time to forget your responsibilities and commitments and just enjoy it."

"Oh yeah? Even old Kasuf let his hair down?"

"Even Kasuf. Everyone did. It was strange, living there and knowing everyone and seeing them all change. It's one thing to read about these things in an anthropology book, but it's another to experience it."

"Sounds like you've got some stories there, Daniel."

"Let's just say at first when it rained I was so excited for the chance to shower I didn't think much of it that people were stripping off their clothes like I was. But after I was clean I looked around me. Grandmothers were running between the tents playing tag with their childhood friends. Children were rolling in the sticky sand with their parents and eating sweets for dinner. Men were tossing buckets of water at each other like it wasn't usually our most precious resource. And people were grabbing rugs and blankets and vanishing in pairs into the rain."

Daniel's words painted such a vivid picture for Jack that it took him a minute to find his voice. "Bet there was a baby boom nine months later," he said, still stuck on the image of a naked Daniel laughing in the rain. He'd seen him often enough in the shower - not that he was paying attention - to know exactly what he'd look like bronzed, slick, and happy.

"Yes," Daniel said. "They said that babies conceived in the rain would lead a life without tears. They were considered very lucky. But that wasn't the point. The point was that it was a time to shed your burdens and just enjoy yourself. To be free for a little while." He paused. "The people pairing off didn't have to be married to each other, sometimes weren't even a man and a woman. It didn't matter. It was liminal, time out of time. We could do what we wanted, be who we wanted, ignore our responsibilities and society's rules until the sun shone again."

'And who did you go off in the rain with?' Jack wanted to ask, but there were too many reasons, personal and professional, why he couldn't say those words. "Some people must've prayed every night for rain to come," he joked instead.

Daniel chuckled. "I'm sure." There was another pause. "That time I stayed with Sha're, but I was looking forward to seeing what would happen the next time."

Jack could imagine Daniel running between the tents, his hand clasping someone else's - a pretty young woman, a pretty young man. Touching, kissing, laughing, getting that bright spark in his eyes he did when he was enjoying himself and wasn't focused on anything else. Need flared in him, unbidden and unwelcome, and Jack opened his eyes again to stare into the darkness. "When we get her back, you'll be able to find out," he said roughly.

"Maybe." There was a resignation in Daniel's voice that Jack didn't like. As much as it could drive him up the wall at any given moment, Daniel was supposed to be full of fire and passion. He was supposed to _believe_.

"You giving up, Daniel?" he asked.

"No, of course I'm not. I'm not giving up. We have to stop the Goa'uld and save Sha're and Skaara and everyone else they've enslaved. We _can't_ give up." _There_ was Daniel's passion, but it dimmed as he sighed and said softly, "But sometimes I'd like it to rain in the desert, you know? Just a little break. Just for a little while."

The unvarnished longing in Daniel's voice for something more than pain touched something deep inside of Jack, a soft spot aching for change. It had been longer than he could remember since Jack had had a break; he'd had decades of rules and regulations, combat missions, family tragedies, and lost friends. Even his retirement had been shrouded by the shadow of Charlie's death, and since he rejoined the Stargate program it had been one thing after another, a series of near misses so damn close he could still remember the way he'd wanted to vomit when he left Daniel to die as he guarded their backs.

He knew exactly how Daniel felt. He was so tired of losing everything, of fighting just to lose some more. He was so tired of seeing faces of those he'd lost every time he closed his eyes - Sara, Charlie, Kawalsky, Skaara, Daniel. God, he was so _tired_.

So instead of trying to find an appropriate way to encourage a member of his team, he found himself murmuring, his throat tight, "It's raining now."

There was a rustle of fabric as Daniel turned onto his side, and his voice came from even closer as he said, "It is."

"Have to say I wouldn't go out there naked, myself," Jack said, trying and failing to sound lighthearted. "It's got to be warmer in the desert."

"It is," Daniel said with a hint of a smile tinting the words. He hesitated again, and Jack was close enough that he could hear him swallow. "It's warm in here."

"Plenty warm, Daniel." It was the clearest invitation Jack could give without crossing the line, and the weight of his dog tags and the possibility that he was reading the whole situation wrong were too heavy to let him be the first one to cross it.

"Jack - ?" There was a world of need and indecision in his name.

"Yeah?"

Daniel's breathing grew labored and loud in Jack's ears. "Are you - ? Can you - ?" Daniel's voice sounded thick with emotion, and Jack knew deep in his chest that some of it was about him, _for_ him. It was the sound he'd always dreaded hearing, because he knew what it would do to him. It was crazy, he knew it was, but he also knew he'd give Daniel anything if he sounded like that. It was the final push he needed.

Jack reached out and found Daniel's mop of hair, following it down to cup his cheek. "Enjoy the rain, Daniel," he murmured.

Daniel made a soft sound, almost a whimper, and then his hand grabbed onto Jack's and caught it in a tight hold. It was strong enough to hurt, and Jack squeezed back, every bit of him focused on that point of connection. Daniel pressed his mouth to the heel of Jack's palm, first kissing and then drawing his teeth lightly across the skin in a way that made Jack shiver and suck in a shaky breath.

"Are you sure, Jack?" Daniel asked against the inside of his wrist.

Jack's whole body was throbbing in time with the tiny licks of Daniel's tongue, and since he knew he had no words to explain what he wanted his response was to scoot his sleeping bag over the handful of inches necessary to be touching Daniel's and to find that insanity-inducing mouth with his own.

The nose that brushed against his was cool and damp, but Daniel's mouth was warm and definitely eager. Daniel gripped Jack's hand even harder, and Jack pulled his other hand free from his bag to tangle it in Daniel's wet hair. The water chilled Jack's fingers, but he didn't care. He was too busy kissing him, _having_ him there, right there, right beside him. He wasn't going to think about anything else.

Daniel's kisses were exactly what Jack would have imagined had he ever let himself - full of passion and intensity beyond reason - and Jack didn't hold himself back. He didn't have to. He knew Daniel could take it. He probably _wanted_ it, just like Jack wanted every little bit of Daniel.

Their joined mouths muffled their quiet, helpless noises as Jack held Daniel's head in place and kissed him again and again - deep, searching kisses, gathering the taste of coffee and rainwater and burning hot sands and replacing it with the taste of himself. He was vaguely aware that Daniel was jerking beside him, flailing inside his sleeping bag, but the second he pulled back to figure out what was going on Daniel finally got his other arm free and yanked Jack back down to feast on his mouth. Daniel wasn't afraid to nibble on Jack's lips or tease him with whisper-soft flicks of his tongue, but he always returned to the intense, hungry, devouring kisses Jack liked best, the ones that Jack could feel all the way down to his toes, the ones that told him they were both alive.

Jack could no longer remember being cold. He was burning up, his pulse thundering and every inch of his body desperate for more. Tugging the zipper of his bag down a few inches, he let a draft of cool air wash over him as he slid closer to Daniel, tipping him onto his back and leaning over him.

"God, Jack," Daniel breathed as Jack braced his weight on his free hand and kissed his throat. Daniel's skin was still chilled, but it heated beautifully under Jack's mouth. After all this time in close quarters he knew Daniel's smell as well as his own, and it was both comforting and dizzying to have his nose so filled with it. " _Jack_."

Jack thought about warning him to be quiet, but Daniel wasn't stupid, and Carter and Teal'c wouldn't hear these soft sounds over the pounding rain. Instead he mouthed up Daniel's throat, burying his face in the damp strands of hair by his ear. He could feel Daniel's pulse hammering against his lips. "Daniel," he murmured, just to have the joy of saying it.

Daniel made another low noise, and he wrapped his free hand around the back of Jack's neck, tugging him up for more lip-bruising kisses. His other hand still clutched Jack's like a lifeline. It was a lifeline for both of them, a constant and unyielding point of contact; Jack couldn't have let go if he'd been ordered at gunpoint.

Kissing Daniel was pretty much like doing anything with Daniel; it was an exhilarating battle of wills, although this one had better side-effects than most. They each fought for the lead, not out of anger but out of passion. Jack would tear his mouth away to suck the warmth to the surface of Daniel's skin, and Daniel would push up and turn them to skim his hands over Jack's shoulders and explore his mouth with his tongue. They couldn't get anywhere near close enough, but they took advantage of every inch of each other they could reach.

They rolled back and forth, locked together and hampered by the sleeping bags that cocooned them, until Jack won the battle, surging forward like a huge, graceless inch worm and ending up suddenly on top. No layers of nylon and thinsulate could disguise the hard body trapped beneath him, and he could see in the dim light how wide Daniel's eyes were as they looked up at him.

"All right there, Daniel?" Jack asked. He could feel an enticingly prominent bulge pushing up against his stomach, and he had to force himself not to rock against it.

Daniel lifted his head and brushed his mouth softly over Jack's as his fingers rubbed the base of Jack's neck. "I'd be better if we weren't trapped inside of these bags," he said, his laugh so husky and warm it sent shivers down Jack's spine.

"Let's see what we can do about that." Jack kissed Daniel again and then slid off beside him in a rustle of fabric. They fumbled with the zippers but managed with only a little quiet swearing on Jack's part to zip the bags together. Then Daniel's hand latched onto Jack's once more, strong and reassuring, and firmly pulled him over to his side of the nest.

There was suddenly a huge amount of skin pressing against skin. Both of them were stripped down to their shorts, and the contrast between layers of padding between them and next to nothing at all was startling. Chest against chest, thigh against thigh, they both froze at the shocking new reality, and then Jack slipped his arm around Daniel's waist, Daniel slid his hand up Jack's spine, and their mouths found each other again.

The kissing didn't lessen just because there was more skin to touch. It only grew more fervent, each of them muffling the other's soft exhalations as their bodies melted into each other, legs twining.

Jack hadn't done this with a man in decades, hadn't even allowed himself to _think_ about it with Daniel, but it felt right. So very right, and so damn good he had a moment of concern that the fun might be over before it barely got started. But it couldn't be over, because he'd only just gotten a hand down to touch Daniel's smooth chest, and there was so much left of him to explore.

Daniel clung to Jack like he was starving for his touch, and for once Jack was more than happy to give him what he wanted. He ran his hands over Daniel's body, over his flat nipples and firm stomach, up his back, down his arms with their much stronger muscles than Jack gave him credit for, along the crisp hair covering his thigh. Everywhere he rubbed away the chill and left behind a thin sheen of sweat as they moved together.

Daniel was wriggling against him as they kissed, probably trying to get their hips lined up but in actuality letting in erratic gusts of chilly night air. Jack stopped him with a quick roll, pinning him down, and all movement screeched to a sudden halt. Jack could feel every inch of Daniel's cock throbbing next to his on the wrong side of two pairs of underwear. He couldn't breathe.

"Jack?" Daniel asked in a hoarse whisper, his eyes wide and glassy. There was such need in his voice that it made Jack's heart twist.

"Right here, Daniel," he murmured, cupping his face and kissing him with tender care.

"Yes, I noticed." Daniel looked up at him like he was amazing, like he was _everything_ , and Jack's hand threatened to shake as he kissed him again.

One of Daniel's legs moved to twine around his, and Daniel's free hand began to map out Jack's body. Jack's skin burned in its wake - his back, his thighs, his biceps, his hips - and then Daniel pushed inside of Jack's underwear to cup his ass and Jack had to rock down against him, groaning.

"I want to take these off," Daniel said breathlessly, squeezing Jack's ass and thrusting upwards.

"You'll have to let go of my hand again," Jack replied, and he wasn't sure whether to be sad about losing that firm grip or just plain eager to get to feel more of Daniel.

"I think I can do that." Daniel brought their hands to his mouth and kissed Jack's fingers before letting them go. Jack felt an intense sense of loss, his shoulders tensing with the emotion, but he wasn't about to dwell on it. He wasn't that stupid.

It only took a few seconds, some of the longest in Jack's life, to push off their boxers, and then they were naked against each other from chest to toe, nothing in the way. Daniel's erection was a hot brand against his hip, and they both sucked in desperate breaths as they found the perfect alignment of their bodies. They began to move. At first their fervent kisses contrasted with the slow rocking of their hips, but slow couldn't last for long. They both needed too much.

Daniel was long and lean beneath him, all muscle and fire, and his hands were far from cautious as they explored Jack's back and ass, urging him on. Daniel gasped and groaned, holding Jack captive both with his grip and even more with how ungodly good he felt. He was solid and undeniably enthusiastic, taking over every one of Jack's senses.

"Come on. Come on," Jack found himself saying as Daniel clutched at him, his back arching enough that Jack had to fling a hand out to keep from getting knocked off.

"Always so bossy." Grinning, Daniel took out Jack's arm in a move that Teal'c must have taught him and rolled them both over until his wonderfully solid weight was on top. He looked down at Jack with a gleam in his eye that stole Jack's breath, and then he licked his lips and started to thrust against Jack's stomach.

The angle was different, and Daniel's body pinning him was more of a turn-on than Jack would have liked to admit. He was desperate to come, and yet felt like he could do this, be in this moment, moving with beautiful synergy with Daniel, forever. He knew it wouldn't last; he was so hard it hurt, and each thrust rubbed the head of his dick against Daniel's balls. They were soft and burning hot against him, different from but equally as arousing as the slick cock pushing against his stomach. He gripped Daniel's shoulders and tried to get even more contact. His dick, Daniel's dick, he didn't care which. He just needed _more_.

Then he unexpectedly slipped behind Daniel's balls to nudge at the cleft of his ass, and he lost focus entirely. Through sheer stubborn force of will he managed not to thrust upwards into that very tempting warmth or to come then and there.

"Jack," Daniel choked out, his voice low and eager. He muffled whatever Jack might have been able to say with another deep kiss that was clumsy with need. Daniel moved down a little bit until their cocks touched. Another slight adjustment and they were aligned, hot and slick, sliding against each other. They both groaned and thrust harder. Jack held onto Daniel with everything that he had and pushed against him, overwhelmed by how forcefully Daniel gave it all right back. There was no hesitation, no slackening of his grip, no end to the demands and gifts of his mouth. There was just the endless, perfect feedback loop between them.

"I'm - " Daniel's tone held the warning he wasn't able to put into words. Jack just gripped his hips and ground up into his thrusts. A few forceful strokes later and Daniel was shuddering, burying his face in Jack's shoulder and spilling all over their stomachs.

Jack rocked through Daniel's aftershocks with him, on the edge of his own release but holding off to focus on Daniel coming down from the high, alive and _there_ with him. Daniel's eyes were glazed when he lifted his head, but his smile was wide and happy. Jack kissed Daniel's beautiful mouth, feeling its curve against his lips, and found himself held firmly in place when he tried to pull away.

"Daniel," he said, trying to bank his arousal and convince himself that he'd offered and received comfort and wasn't going to ask for anything more.

Daniel fixed him with a determined and far too knowing gaze. "It's still raining, Jack," he said, and with that he tipped them onto their sides and got his hand around Jack's dick.

"Oh, hell." Jack closed his eyes as blood rushed southward. Daniel's fingers - long, nimble fingers that Jack had refused to admit he loved to watch - stroked him slowly, and the feel of having another person's hand on him - _Daniel's_ hand - was more than enough to overcome his prior concerns.

"This is good," Daniel told him. It was not a question, and he didn't let Jack argue. He brought their mouths together again and kept them both from saying anything more.

His hands wandering wherever he could reach, Jack panted against Daniel's lips as Daniel stroked him faster, their bodies plastered tightly against each other. He couldn't quite get enough air as they kissed and Daniel teased his arousal higher and higher, but that hypersensitivity only led to him being more aware of every second, every touch, every sound, every glorious inch of Daniel's sweaty skin touching his.

"God," he gasped when Daniel did some wicked twist around the head of his dick. The move wasn't repeated, though, and in fact Daniel's hand left him entirely. Jack groaned his disappointment.

"Here," Daniel said. He took Jack's hand from where it was clutching his hip and lifted it to his mouth. He kissed Jack's knuckles one by one and then gently licked his palm, his agile tongue darting around his fingers in a way that did _not_ help Jack's self-control.

"God," Jack repeated reverently, and then both of their hands were on his cock, slippery and tight. Daniel moved them faster, harder, and Jack pressed in close to him, screwed his eyes shut, and let himself ride the swift spiral higher. He thrashed a bit, trying to match the rhythm with his hips, and then they found the sweet spot of motion - push, pull, twist, thrust, all with Daniel's mouth fixed to his - that catapulted him over the edge.

Jack's eyes flew open as he came, and the light in Daniel's of curiosity, determination, desire, and delight as he watched Jack with all of his enormous focus only made him push into their fists and come harder. The rush was overwhelming as it crashed through him, furious and fierce at first but leaving every inch of him warm and sated.

Flopping onto his back when his hips finally stopped moving, Jack rolled his head over to lean against Daniel's and concentrated on remembering how to breathe. They lay there, touching from head to hip, and drifted. Jack couldn't remember the last time he was as comfortable and calm, relaxed and centered. It had to have been years.

As good as Jack felt and as little as he wanted to move, though, the reality was that the inside of the bag would get wet and cold if they didn't do something, and he just couldn't bear the thought. "Hang on," he said at last, reaching one arm out and finding his underwear. He pulled it closer and saw the stripes. _Daniel's_ underwear. Score. He used them to wipe away the worst of the mess and flung the shorts toward the tent flap, well away from Daniel's books. He sure as hell didn't want to hear about ruined research in the morning... or even tonight, if Daniel was paying enough attention. He was smugly certain that he wasn't.

"There we go," Jack said, pulling his arm back into the warmth and slinging it over Daniel's body. The itch between his shoulder blades was finally gone, and he rolled his neck, enjoying the freedom of relaxed muscles. "Much better."

Daniel made a soft affirmative noise almost as vague as he did when his nose was buried in a book. He sounded sleepy, and Jack was right there with him. They lay there as the rain pattered on the tent roof above them. It didn't sound so bad anymore, Jack thought.

"You know, I could get to like the rain," he said. He realized what else the statement could mean after the words were out of his mouth, and he couldn't help but tense up.

Taking a deep breath, his chest rising beneath Jack's arm, Daniel asked softly, "Is this going to be a problem in the morning?"

"Is it a problem now?"

"I... don't know. Not for me." Daniel opened his eyes to meet Jack's, both questioning and daring at once.

Jack couldn’t look away, couldn't even find some joke to hide behind. "Then it isn't. It won't be."

"Okay. I - I really don't want things to be difficult between us when it stops raining, Jack."

Jack didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about letting Daniel go back to his wife and his life and all of the things between them. He didn't want to think about his rank and his responsibilities. It made his chest ache, and he shut the thoughts away. "It's not going to happen," he told him. "The rain never stops here, Daniel."

Daniel searched his eyes for a long moment before smiling a little and relaxing against him. It must have been the right thing to say. "You're right," he said, tugging on Jack's arm to draw him closer. "It never does."

The thought was comforting, and as they curled around each other the sound of the rain lulled them both to sleep.


End file.
